Smile Number Seven

by Melissa Price

  “My face is tingling right now, Rina. I want to strangle her.”

  “I’ve never seen you play the jealous lover before. It’s very sexy on you—kind of like the Girl Scouts meet Wonder Woman.”

  Julia fell back on the bed and let out an exasperated breath. “What is it with these fucked-up women? Do you realize this argument was caused by two other women from our pasts? That and the invasion-of-privacy photos.”

  Rina groaned. “We need a new game plan.”

  Julia laid her hand on Rina’s leg. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  “Glad you feel that way. We no longer have to worry about Britney at least—I’m quitting The Big Picture.”

  Julia bolted upright. “You’re what?”

  “I’m leaving the film. As soon as I’m better, I’m going onto a different project. It’s a little indie film written by a friend I made in chocolate rehab. It’s called The Do-Over.”

  “So this is a good thing?”

  “I think it’s going to be a very good thing, and I’ll be shooting all of it in LA. But none of it matters if I don’t have you.”

  Julia smiled. “You so have me.”

  “I don’t exactly have the strength to throw myself at you,” Rina grinned, “but I wouldn’t say no if you made a gentle pass at me—like now.”

  “Now?”

  “Why, do you have something better to do?”

  “No, Rina, you’re my favorite thing to do.”

  “I’ll give it up on one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  “Well, I know you keep emergency lasagna for me in the freezer.”

  Julia moved close and kissed Rina’s neck. “You know that, huh? Maybe it’s make-up lasagna.”

  “You mean like make-up sex?”

  “Uh-huh—only—lasagna.”

  “Can I have some after?”

  Julia pulled her closer. “After what?” she whispered in her ear.

  “Are you going to make me say it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.” Rina tilted her head to let Julia kiss her harder. “After you make me scream your name.”

  Julia pulled back and looked into her lover’s eyes. “Scream? You’d never do that.”

  “No, not me. Never.”

  “You must really miss the lasagna.”

  “Oh, baby. I do.”

  Chapter Forty

  Long beyond the Britney fiasco and far enough from the effects of her injury, Rina submerged herself in her new role as Dolly in Swan’s film, The Do-Over. Her resolve to quit The Big Picture had afforded her all the impetus she needed to embrace the new part. Instead of fighting with the pit in her stomach every morning as she had done during The Big Picture, she awoke eager to go to work. She was confident she’d made the right choice every time she showed up on the set. Whether it was Swan’s hug or being on a first name basis with everyone, including the caterers, Rina felt less like a movie star and more like a newly working actor determined to earn her stripes.

  Through the magnetic words Swan had so brilliantly crafted, Dolly became a valued friend. Nuance, emotion, fantasy—all noble beasts of artistic burden—opened Rina to new feelings of levity and freedom. She found herself confronting her past for the first time, questioning decisions she had made—with the grand exception of her love for Julia. Time to express that love, however, was always at a premium, especially when Julia couldn’t accompany her to anything that might cause speculation about their relationship.

  For months, their visits were brief and often interrupted or canceled, either due to the film or Julia’s business expansion. If they were at the Y2, it meant fitting the relationship between stints of a veritable stew of unending have-tos and sleep. In Malibu, it meant First World Problems, like making the Oscar submission deadline—and sleep. At its best, Malibu included a nice dinner at some fancy restaurant with at least Clay’s presence to provide a pretext for Julia’s. Luxury meant a walk on the beach or watching an ocean sunset together.

  Rina sat in her trailer on the set, going over her script changes for the next scene when Gigi entered. “Do you want to run any lines?” she asked.

  “No, I’m ready.”

  “Julia called.”

  Rina looked up from her pages. “What did she say?”

  “If you need to attend the dinner party alone tomorrow night, she understands. She has a big party coming up this weekend and would feel better if she was available to work it with her new staff.”

  “Ugh. This can’t last forever.”

  “What?”

  “Not being with her.”

  “You two had a great anniversary weekend.”

  “That was two months ago!”

  “She went wild for the Harley-Davidson you gave her.”

  “She adores that beast. I was hoping it would keep her occupied on her visits to LA when I’m working.”

  “The good news is, everyone is confident that the film will be ready before the Oscar submission deadline, and the producers already have the release date.”

  “Whew! We’ve all busted our asses for that.”

  Gigi answered the knock on the door. “Ten minutes, Miss Verralta,” the Production Assistant called out.

  Not one of Dolly’s lighter moments in the film, the eulogy she would deliver in the next scene was her poetic farewell to her lover. Rina stood and rehearsed it one last time.

  Like the earliest of autumn leaves.

  But it’s winter.

  Sun warm and alive

  And it’s winter.

  Roses by our pond

  The fountain sprays only me with spring

  This winter.

  Yellows and pinks decorate your season.

  Then white.

  And red.

  The final bed

  Of winter.

  Her assistant stood there, staring at her in awe.

  “What is it, Gigi?”

  “That was without question your most magnificent delivery. Ever.”

  Rina smiled. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “There’s something about playing Dolly that defines me completely as an actor.”

  “It shows. I know the role in The Big Picture was supposed to be your role of a lifetime, but honestly, Rina, I’ve been watching and I wouldn’t be surprised if this earned you another nomination.” Gigi opened the door to the trailer and waited for Rina to exit. “I’ll text Julia and let her know you’ll call her tonight.”

  “Thanks.”

  * * *

  Julia picked up the phone when she came into the house from the casita. “Hi, Vitty, you okay? Isn’t it past your bedtime there?”

  “Hi, sis. It’s late but I’ve been wanting to speak with you and there’s never enough time during the day.”

  “I know what you mean. I’ve been working nonstop between the diner, catering, and the retail packaging.”

  “So things are going well?”

  “Really well, except it’s been impossible for Rina and me to have any meaningful time together.”

  “I know you haven’t shared the details with me yet, but I can’t wait to meet your girlfriend. You sound happy.”

  “I’ve never been happier. But you and I need to have a much longer conversation for this.”

  “Fair enough,” Vitty replied.

  “So, what’s up?”

  “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you about the ranch.”

  Julia opened a beer and settled on the sofa. “Okay.”

  “I know it’s only months away, but sometime after we’re married—sooner than later—David and I would really like to buy a little house outside the city. You know, get a place where we can raise our kids.”

  “And?”

  “New York is so ridiculously expensive, I wanted to ask you if you would even consider buying me out of the Y2 or at least let me sell off part of the ranch. I know it’s a lot to ask.”

  Sell off the ranch? “Wow. That’s a big r
equest. I mean, I’d buy you out in a heartbeat if I had more time to save up.”

  “I know I should have brought this up long before now—at least on my last visit. Look, it wouldn’t have to be right away. David and I aren’t going to have kids immediately, but it would sure be nice to pay a mortgage rather than throwing thousands away every month renting in the city.”

  “Let me think about it. Maybe there’s a way to finance part of your mortgage using the ranch as collateral or to put the ranch in my name only and take out a second mortgage…”

  “Between the two of us, I think we can come up with something we can both live with, don’t you, Jules?”

  “Sure. We’re smart enough to figure this out.”

  “I feel bad for asking. You’ve always been there for me and I know it wasn’t easy on you when I left.”

  “Never feel bad about asking. We’re sisters.”

  “Promise me you won’t stress about it, Jules?”

  That would be a neat trick. “I won’t. Get some sleep and I’ll speak with you soon.”

  “Um…Mom says hi.”

  The reaction stuck in Julia’s throat. She said nothing.

  “She’s so thankful she’ll get to be with us together at the wedding.”

  “I’m your maid of honor. Your wish is my command.”

  Vitty chuckled. “Best maid of honor ever.”

  “Night, sis.”

  “Night, Juju.”

  Mother! Sell? Where…how…oh, my head is starting to hurt.

  Julia was already in bed when Rina called. She smiled when she picked up. “Hey, Dolly.”

  “Hello, Cowgirl.”

  “I prefer horsewoman.”

  Rina chuckled. “It fits you. How are things there?”

  “F-fine.”

  “Want to try that again?”

  “Vitty phoned a little while ago. She wants me to buy her out or to work out a deal to sell off a portion of the Y2. She kind of blindsided me, so I’m lying here thinking about how to do it.”

  “Why does she want you to do that? She knows what the ranch means to you.”

  “In all fairness, it’s her birthright too, Rina. It’s not her fault she wanted a different life. And now she and David are about to get married, and they want a little house of their own—where they can raise kids. She said New York is expensive. I know she wouldn’t be asking if there was another way to do it.”

  “You started by saying, ‘In all fairness.’ What about fairness to you?”

  “It’ll work out—one way or another things always work out.”

  Rina sighed. “Always the grown-up.”

  “Someone has to be.”

  “Not always, Julia—and even still, it doesn’t always have to be you.”

  “Tomorrow’s another day—I’ll sleep on it. How did things go on the set today?”

  “Incredibly well. Dolly had to deliver a eulogy for her deceased lover. When I finished the first take, everyone on the set applauded. I can’t remember that ever happening before. It brought tears to my eyes—honestly, I was so humbled.”

  “With everything you’ve told me about this movie, I can’t wait to see it. Just the one day I watched you film was incredible. And I love it when we run lines.”

  “Listen, I feel terrible that I can’t bring you to the gala dinner with me this weekend.”

  Julia exhaled. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

  “What?”

  “The whole invisibility game.”

  “Don’t call it that. I love you.”

  “Enough to actually be with me?”

  “We’ve been over this, Julia. I can’t come out.”

  Julia paused and let it sink in for the fifty-thousandth time. “So when will you be done filming?”

  “We’ll wrap the middle of next week,” Rina said excitedly. “I was thinking I could come down the following weekend.”

  “I have back-to-back parties. How about the weekend after that?”

  “I can’t. We have the photo shoot for the press materials. I can’t put it off because the photographers need the costume and makeup people there. What about the weekend after that?”

  “You’ll finally have to see me then in any case. That’s when I’m meeting with the gallery owner about my sculpture exhibition. Can I crash at your place?” Julia asked facetiously.

  “Julia, it won’t always be this way.”

  “What way?”

  “Where life is so busy and crazy.”

  Julia went silent.

  “What are you thinking?” asked Rina.

  “I’m thinking about how many days, nights, and weekends we’ve lost out on being together because you can’t be seen with me.”

  “I don’t like it either, but I’ll be with you when you’re here. We’ll go for a nice dinner.”

  “As long as you stay three feet from me at all times?”

  “But I’ll be right there to cheer you on when you meet with the gallery people, and again a few weeks after at the exhibition. I’m so happy your work will finally be out there for everyone to appreciate.”

  “Thanks, Rina. It wouldn’t have happened without you.”

  “Sure it would have. Not knowing the gallery owners, it may have taken a little longer, but I have faith in your talent. You should too.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk.”

  “Thank you for always understanding my life. I love you, Julia.”

  “I love you, Katarina. Good luck tomorrow on the film. Sweet dreams.”

  “Night.”

  Julia drifted off to sleep with fairy-tale princesses dancing in her head. Princesses whose ivory towers served as their prisons—just like the one in Malibu. She concluded that if her love was a princess, it too would indeed inhabit an ivory tower.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Months later as Julia reflected again on that phone conversation with Rina, she remembered with clarity how she had felt that night, after Rina had apologized yet again for ousting Julia from her social life, marginalizing her role as lover. Secondhand, second-rate, repressed, closeted. None of it looked good on Julia, not even in the funhouse mirror that was Hollywood.

  Now, here she was yet again, ready to take on the role of her lifetime. Pretending to not be in love with the love of her life. In public with Rina, she had mastered faking it, to the point where she had learned how to feel nothing at all for her so that no one would see the truth about their favorite star.

  But here it finally was—Oscar night. Julia made her way down Sunset to Hollywood. Even though Rina had already won the Golden Globe for her role as Dolly, she knew the woman would be a bundle of nerves.

  She parked her motorcycle in the lot of the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, just steps away from the Oscar ceremonies, where in a matter of hours, Rina and Dolly would await their fate. She shook her hair loose from her helmet, grabbed it and her backpack, and breezed into the iconic Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. What caught her eye first were the artistically decorated beams that separated the sections of the recessed Moorish ceiling. The ornate patterns and scrolls that overlaid them offered elegant breathing room in this place of the first-ever Oscars—even for ordinary people like her.

  Throughout its dark and shabby period, the Roosevelt had resembled a broken down Hollywood has-been—stories of punk rockers stabbed outside and hookers trolling the streets behind it. But like most Hollywood icons who had made it through rehab, it had regained its real estate among the glamorous with a facelift that had earned it a comeback.

  The balustrade framed out the colonnade below, and its current incarnation of tufted leather sofas in the lobby invited and welcomed. Beyond its renovation, the hotel’s design still harkened back to the era of glam movie royalty. Julia envisioned the likes of Marilyn Monroe, Clark Gable, and Carole Lombard posing for the cameras, perhaps standing where she now stood. Or maybe Sinatra and Dean Martin, a cigar in one hand, a bourbon in the other. Except that it’s illegal to smoke indoors now—and who the hell dr
inks bourbon!

  Though the deco candelabra chandelier highlighted the ceiling brightly, it spilled a fallen shimmer onto the centrally placed octagonal fountain below.

  A young concierge met Julia as she stepped into the high-arched colonnade that ringed the lobby.

  “May I help you?” he asked.

  “The penthouse, please,” she replied.

  He glanced at her backpack and brain bucket. “Your name?” His pen was poised over a clipboard with a list.

  “Julia.”

  “Julia…?”

  “Just Julia.”

  He stared at her soberly and then scanned the list, tapping the clipboard with his pen. “Nice try, but I can’t let you go up there.”

  Julia exhaled hard. She smiled anyway. “Would you please call Ms. Verralta’s suite and tell her I’m here?”

  He hesitated. “Come with me please.”

  While following him to the Bell Desk, a litany of flashbacks crashed the present moment. No matter how much Rina said she wanted them to be together, the chasm between them had widened, thanks to too many situations like this one. It was bad enough—the times when Clay had yanked her to his side on Rodeo Drive so that she wouldn’t wind up in a photo with Rina. Once they were alone, Rina would always apologize.

  “It’s ringing,” said the concierge.

  She’s apologized a lot lately. But nothing had changed. She knew there would be a next time—and a time after that. After all, there was a this time. And, if there was a way for Gigi to conveniently keep her in the dark about anything or to sabotage her relationship with Rina, the assistant always found it, no matter how many times Rina had “spoken” to her. The routine had gotten stale—tiring. Today, it was simply old. She couldn’t remember the last time she had spent a whole day off sculpting in her casita on the ranch.

  “Still ringing.” The concierge gave her a skeptical once-over. “I have Julia—no last name, here in the lobby, but she’s not on my list.” His expression immediately turned from concierge to that of a humble bellhop. “Thank you.” He placed the handset back on the receiver. “Sorry. But you understand.”

  She understood all right. Then again, she never understood. If there was ever a time she wasn’t in the mood to be seen as a nobody—an intruder no less, this was it. Perhaps Rina’s biggest night, and she wasn’t even on the list along with the florist and the hairstylist.